Page 55

“Sheisa racing horse, Brother. She will need to run if she is to remain in good health. Like you said.” He grinned. “One race won’t hurt.”

“It’s not that. There’s no athleticism in racing a w… a beginner,” Thomas said, catching himself. “If I win, I’d simply beat someone lesser than me. If I lose, I’d be humiliated. Either way, it is not honorable.”

Sophia smirked. “Oh, how endearing it is, dear husband, that you couldn’t be more wrong.”

Now, both Thomas and William were looking to her for an explanation.

“Unlike you,” she continued proudly, “I grew up with two brothers who had a lot more to prove than me.You,on the other hand, grew up as the heir to a dukedom. Even if someone was brave enough to challenge you, they’d be afraid to win against you in fear of your anger.”

Thomas pondered her statement for a second.

“I bet you have never lost, have you?” she asked with confidence, and Thomas blinked.

“How—”

“Like I said. Too afraid to beat you. Unlike me, who isn’t afraid of youin the least. Wouldn’t you like to know what it’s like to have arealrace? Somerealcompetition?”

A few good seconds passed.

He smiled. “You couldn’t be more wrong,my dear wife,” he argued in a slightly mocking tone.

“Oh?” Sophia returned in an equally mocking tone.

“You know why I have never lost a race?”

“Why would that be? Enlighten me,” she said, smiling.

“Because I couldn’t,” Thomas said bluntly. “I was the son of a duke, as you said, and destined to become one myself. Losing meant dishonor to the family and, more specifically, to me. I spent countless hours on horseback with the express purpose of never losing a challenge, whether it was issued by a commoner or another duke. You took a few riding lessons with your brothers, and you consider yourself an expert.”

“Well, why don’t you show me your expertise, then? ThisDuchesschallenges you,” Sophia said, still smiling with jarring confidence.

“Jeremiah!” Thomas called immediately.

The stablemaster, so absorbed in tending to the rest of the animals, turned to address his Duke. “Yes, Your Grace?”

“Prepare Lucille. I am going to participate in a race.”

Sophia smiled even wider at his statement as if she thought she had already triumphed.

“Prepare Violetta, too,” Thomas added. “The Duchess will put her to the test.”

Sophia gasped with joy and clapped, the movement straining the buttons of her obscenely tight jacket.

No distractions,Thomas chided himself. He could not afford to let his mind wander for even a moment, regardless of what she was wearing or what those garments were doing to his willpower.

Willpower he had fought hard to regain with work and many,manywalks in the days since their outing at the theater and the ride back home.

“Yes, Your Grace,” the stablemaster replied. “At once.”

“Are both riders ready?” William called out, standing by the ancient oak that was to be the starting line.

“I am,” said Thomas as he turned and glanced at Sophia.

She looked as comfortable in the saddle as one would look relaxing in their bathtub, and he tried to feign disapproval of the way she sat—not side-saddle but astride, his mind venturing for the hundredth time to places it shouldn’t, imagining her astride him instead, riding him to a mutual conclusion that would feel far more triumphant than winning a silly race.

Concentrate!he scolded himself, turning his gaze ahead to the line of faraway trees that would be their midway point.

“I also am.” Sophia readjusted her grip on the reins, shooting him one last glance. “Good luck, husband.”